


Project Eros: Pfau

by MorpheusEnMemori (Its_Darling)



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M, Misogyny, Multi, Suicide Attempt, TF2 OCs, Trans!Spy, Transphobia, clone theory, multiple respawn theory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:35:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21943105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Its_Darling/pseuds/MorpheusEnMemori
Summary: A Blue Spy, Lazare, has long since caused nothing but trouble. Forced between various cases, Lazare chooses a Project Eros case with Walther "Verwalter" Sommer. He and Walther manage a dance in this experimental base, where Project Manager Ziege has managed to 'perfect' a method that blends sex and therapy.At least, that's the official reasoning for sending Lazare there. The secret is that Lazare is trying to find out why there is an unusual spike of deaths occurring in both RED and BLU members of this base.Of course, the only problems facing Lazare in solving this mystery quickly is both Verwalter and within himself.A rewrite of Taming the Peacock, with... more plot premise (but still essentially a porn plot, I'm not gonna lie)
Relationships: Relationships to be added
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Drink-Me-Whiskey](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Drink-Me-Whiskey).



> It's back.  
> I dunno about better, but certainly more focused.

"We can be reasonable here, ja?" Doctor Gross asks, staring at the knife of his allied teammate, the Spy.

The Spy, Lazare, had long since grown irritated at Doctor Goss. Stupid Medic. Ever since he's been here, he has been insulted, belittled, _and_ misgendered. Today is the day he kills the man. And maybe himself, Lazare has not had a good year. It would trigger Global Respawn for him, but he had turned off the Local Respawn, likely alerting the Global hub to his antics. As far as he knew, Doctor Gross was not on Global Respawn.

He's killing Doctor Gross and no one can stop him. At least, not in time.

"Herr Spy..." Doctor Gross was reaching towards a table, trying to get a saw, "I don't like that glint in your eyes. We can talk, ja?"

"You mean you wish to do all the talking, think yourself the smartest man in the room, and call me the strangest woman in the world for living as a man." Lazare says.

"Ah, you are still offended by that?" Doctor Gross asks, "I had looked past many of my prejudices. You're a rather fine Spy, better than I had expected..."

Doctor Gross rambles on, but Lazare had kept a firm eye on the man. He's rambling in hopes that Lazare would be distracted. With a bed in the way, it would make stabbing him right through the eye difficult.

Lazare would find a way.

Sure, Lazare could just leap over the bed, stab Doctor Gross. But he would likely have an ubersaw in his gut. Lazare has _principles_. And it hurts. If he was going to choose his own death, he’d do it himself.

Besides, he wants to make sure that he deals a killing blow, not a maiming one. A missing eye was just _annoying_ , not necessarily detrimental. Or it could get healed, because the medigun is nearby.

He's waiting for Doctor Gross to make a mistake, to want more than a saw. To turn the exact wrong way so that he could stab the man right in the back. So currently, they were at a standoff.

Doctor Gross shifted in a different direction, starting to favor his Blutsauger that was a distance away and Lazare was leaping on the bed. While he couldn't necessarily get where he wanted, what Lazare _did_ recall was that he didn't get the eye, but the neck. Lazare is on top of the doctor when they topple to the ground. As he angrily glares at Doctor Gross, Lazare soon feels a sharp stab in his leg. He looks down, seeing that the man had a syringe and whatever was in it was already put in him.

Who knew what it was, but Doctor Gross was slowly losing life. Yanking the knife out, Lazare rolls his eyes, figuring he should be coy.

Slitting his own throat was painful, sure, but... There's always Global Respawn.

Just as he comes into being, Lazare's not too surprised that he's surrounded by other doctors stationed in the Global Respawn hub that quickly take hold of him. They lift him partway, turning him so that his stomach faced the ground, so that other doctors can have hold of his legs. They were not particularly thrilled with him. This would not be the first time that Lazare has broken a great number of rules to do as he pleased, as well as the fact that the doctors are displeased that the Administrator seemed unwilling to ‘retire’ Lazare.

He did not expect to see Doctor Gross stepping into the room. With blond hair and not that shoddy dye job, but it explained why he dyed his hair. Either Administration made him do so, or the blond was just too unfortunate.

"Ach. Was unaware you are _also_ a Global Respawn recipient." Doctor Gross says, "Well Herr Spy, I think it has reached the point where I am unable to help you further."

Lazare could only glare at the man, especially as he approaches closer.

"Hm. I recall your status. Perhaps you need a different kind of head doctor than a neurosurgeon." Doctor Gross says.

Looking right at the man's face, Lazare feels his mouth water and glares at the doctor in rage. He spits right at Doctor Gross, getting him in the face. The Medic flinched slightly, soon taking out a handkerchief to wipe it away.

"Ja. Your point has been made." Doctor Gross says, "Perhaps while you are in a nice padded room you can consider what you did, and I shall find a different doctor for you."


	2. Chapter 1- Lazare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lazare's new mission(s)  
> that he subsequently messes up the entire set-up for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has mentions of what we'd call a snuff film, but Lazare's point of reference is a Mondo film (trying to be semi-accurate with terms)  
> also I think I'm the only one with a 'multiple clones of Pauling' theory because like. She's the best but also if there's multiple bases in canon, she realistically cannot handle them all by herself (although she's just awesome like that). So with that in mind, ascribing to "multiple clones of Miss Pauling" because for me it'd make more sense.

Not a padded room, but it was torturous to be in bed for two weeks. No privacy, all sorts of other Medics whom had an interest in his case, poking him with needles and asking prodding questions. A few women too, since some of the other men were being ignorant. An Australian Medic with a beard had seen him once.

"Small update to your respawn logs. You had a cancerous ovary, now you won't respawn with it. Although, at this point I would highly recommend a hysterectomy and she'll be right." she says.

"So one of the other medics could take it and insert it into others?" Lazare had other issues with a hysterectomy, but that one was on the list.

"Ah, you heard of the baboon one." she says, shaking her head, "Certainly a few snags short of the full barbecue. Half suspect he's using magic or something."

Lazare used to scoff at that explanation, but magic does have some basis. He just doesn't understand it nor does he particularly care to.

His main concern about the waiting was the boredom. Nothing to do except for wait. Very few of the doctors trusted him. It wasn't just because of Doctor Gross, Lazare didn't exactly have a good record of being a model patient. That, and he suspects there were those invested in him whom don't want him to somehow manage to pull himself off Global Respawn.

He has tried, and it is both tricky and not something he wants to act on. Not really. Perhaps he was doing it for attention. But mostly, he feels that one day, respawn would glitch like it did during the _incident_ , and Lazare would be free from many decisions that have been forced upon him. But until then, he just enjoys being an annoyance.

At some point, two women step in, dressed in a simple purple dress, torn stockings, and wild black hair. Lazare had recently learned of this Miss Pauling, whom impressed the Administrator so much that she had her cloned numerous times. While an unassuming figure, Lazare knew better than to underestimate her. He thinks they're both clones, but something about the way one of them stands, the one on the left, was making him suspicious.

"Right, there's him." The Pauling on the right says.

"Eugh, he has to be restrained like that?" The Pauling on the left says.

"Yeah, he's... a troublemaker." The Pauling on the right hands her files, which just makes it all the more comical for her to hold onto with all the other confidential ones, "Alright, Spy 43 is yours. Good luck. You'll need it."

The Pauling on the right leaves, and the Pauling on the left blows a hair out of her face and walks into the room. She unceremoniously drops the messy stack of files on a nearby table and starts to go through them.

"Huh... Spy. Well." and much to Lazare's irritation, she goes into a fake French accent, "Bonjour! I have a job for you. Uhh, oui hon baguette?"

Lazare keeps his eyes on her and he says, "I am from Basque and I happen to know French."

"Oh, ah, probably a little offended then." Miss Pauling says.

"If we were in Basque, I would have shot you." Lazare says.

"but we are not, and I do have a job for you." she looks through the files, furrows her brow, and amends, "you have choices. Um. Seems Doctor Isaak Gross went digging and firmly said that you needed... a break? Healing? But also, there's work."

"Am I healing or am I working?"

"Yes." Miss Pauling says, although Lazare is not terribly surprised that work and healing was mixed in, "So there's Sigma base. There seems to be a massive disagreement between supplies and what's present in the base. Prediction is that it would take six months to obtain enough evidence... and the medic there is a mental health official."

"Whom?" Lazare asks.

"Doctor Becker."

That bastard? Did they forget what happened last time? "No. Next contract."

"Uh, there's Team Palisade in dire need of a Spy of your caliber, seems they ah... need someone expert in torture methods befitting the Brutal Spy?" Miss Pauling furrows her brows and seemed to be looking at other files.

"Ah. They want my mentor. I am not him. I pass." Lazare says, somehow managing to keep his expression steady, but he’s a little disturbed that the base knew of the Brutal Spy.

"Who in the world is your mentor?" Miss Pauling asks quietly, likely to herself, then picks up more files, "Oh, we're going right in Project Eros bases now."

"Never heard of them." Lazare keeps his tone even, but he was genuinely baffled this was the first he heard of Project Eros. He's usually on top of knowledge like this. This Miss Pauling was growing a bit interesting, and maybe he will have some fun. Hopefully.

"Yeah, it's... weird." Miss Pauling says, "So there's not been a lot of oversight in Project Eros. We've sent other spies, and well, they uh... either don't come back or they come back reprogramed. Bit of a bother actually. So now there's you. There's three bases that the Administrator wants eyes and ears on, and uh, seems you've been on the docket to go to specifically Doctor Sommer's base, but there's options."

"Considering I am still restrained to the bed, attached to a variety of wires and tubes, and otherwise unable to peruse the files with you, I would require more details." Lazare wanted to say that this clone was stupid, but she's acting in such a way that he wonders... Was she the original?

"Oh!" Miss Pauling repositions the files so she's looking at three, and has an a-ha moment, "These three base leaders are the pupils and potentially can be a successor to Project Eros' manager. So there's a Spy, uh, Savio? I guess that's a code name. Seems the Administrator suspects he's not actually treating people. Then there's a Sniper, Sampson. Looks official and efficient, but the Administrator thinks there's something secret going on. Last, Doctor Walther Sommer. He's...."

Miss Pauling picks out a sheet, pulling it closer and adjusts her glasses while she reads it. Lazare can see from how the light shines on the paper that the report on that single page is extensive. The writing has gone off the lines.

"It's not _specifically_ him, but it's the Red Side. There's... problems."

Lazare waits patiently, and Miss Pauling... explains is a word. Ramble is another. Expressing horror is also accurate.

"There's reports of respawn logs having more than suspicious data points, as well as death reports on both sides obviously missing information." Miss Pauling often pauses, blinking and seems to be avoiding too many expressions of disgust, "So recently, there ah... the RED Engineer was known for making weird machines. And one death was um..."

She shows Lazare a photograph.

He's... Partially sure of what he sees. Sure, he's seen a man cut in half before.

He's not seen obvious signs of arousal. Except that. It's clear this was done before, with the use of tools that was still on the-

Lazare closes his eyes, taking in a breath. Opening them and looking at the image again did not help matters.

"Miss Pauling I have heard reports of what are called like a Mondo film." Lazare starts, "The Spies are calling them grotesque and horrific. I have seen one. Sex and death in one... There is apparently a market for Spies."

"Ew..." Miss Pauling says.

"I presume that there simply is just suspicious respawn logs and limited real evidence." Lazare says, "otherwise, the base would have likely been raided and the offending parties receiving a retirement in the form of a bullet in the head and buried under quicklime."

"Project manager is certainly making the job difficult." Miss Pauling seems to be in agreement there, "Because it's _both_ RED and BLU members dying, we're not entirely sure what is going on. It could be both bases, it could be one person. It could even be something funny going on. We're not sure, not enough resources to check and we've got bigger problems than this. But we're trying to fix it before it gets too big."

Something the Manns would notice, or something their Engineers would bring to their attention. For all Lazare knows, it's just enough to catch the Administrator's attention. Which, nothing seems to escape her, especially with how she does her best to know of most things. Miss Pauling tends to know the things that she misses, and hinged on how tight lipped the clones were.

"And what exactly is the mission?" Lazare asks.

"Well, covert, deep cover." Miss Pauling says, "The Administrator suspects you'll be here a year or two, Doctor Sommer seems to have a great rapport, but he's just slow. And unusual. Eh, Project Eros is unusual to begin with."

God, is this woman going to ramble the entire time?

"Miss Pauling." Lazare says.

"Hm? Oh, yes, Project Eros. Started by the Project Manager... You, for once, don't have clearance to know of him. But he had a theory that getting mercenaries to work through sexual frustration would increase efficiency. Then his proteges went and did other studies, Doctor Sommer is known for using a mix of sex and therapy." Miss Pauling explains.

Lazare blinks.

They cannot be serious. Sex? And mixing therapy _and_ sex. And Lazare was recommended for this facility. This had to be an elaborate joke and he didn’t get the punchline.

"I..." Lazare hesitates, "Miss Pauling, you must be joking."

"Not at all." Miss Pauling says, "It's weird, not really my thing, but it's producing results the Administrator likes. Makes my job a little easier since I don't have to bury bodies in remote areas and have to drag quicklime around."

"You are asking me, of all people that could be asked, to go under cover in facilities that will demand that I be in such a vulnerable position." Lazare says.

"Well, I guess I could get out the Sigma and Palisade case files..." Miss Pauling says.

Lazare gapes at her, now seeing the intent. He didn't really have a choice. Sigma held a base where Lazare would nigh immediately try killing Doctor Becker. Palisade wanted his mentor, not him. And he had options with the three Project Eros bases. Cursing, Lazare wishes he could slam his fist against something or throw things.

"Fine." Lazare says, "I'll go to Doctor Sommer's base and I will solve the stupid problem."

"Oh." Miss Pauling had set up a couple of files, but she soon returns to the previous one, "I'll ah, let you read- How about I get a doctor to release you, so you can get better acquainted with what we need, yeah?"

Lazare watches her leave, thinking that his life had made interesting turns.

And by interesting, _infuriating_.

\----

Spies are a little unique. They know a great deal about each other, to some extent. Hence why as he waits for Miss Pauling to collect the remaining bits of information for the briefing, he waits in the Global Spy Department in a fresh blue suit. He's looking at a photograph on the wall out of a group of many, the "hire or kill on sight". It's a woman mostly facing away from the camera, a color photograph where she has black hair and pale skin. The eye showing on that side was green.

Labeled beneath it was "Queen of Navarre- last sighting, 1950".

"Interesting story, that one." The new figure makes Lazare tense, he only barely glances to his left to see a RED Spy.

"Mm." Lazare hums.

"She's one of Brutal's, that Julen Mendoza." He says, "she'd be great here. Or dead, though real shame."

Not agency, meaning he doesn't get the nuance. Lazare isn't sure how much he wants to count his blessings that he wasn't recognized.

Most Spies are taller than him, so he intrinsically notices when others lean down to him. This RED Spy was going to get on his nerves, especially with that knowing smirk.

"I'm a little surprised to find another non- Agency here, especially with clearance like yours." He says, "unless you're just following Miss Pauling."

Lazare considers, how much trouble would he be in if he stabbed this Spy? His fingers are twitching and he almost wants to take the risk. Instead, he takes in a breath, looking back at the wall.

"You must be new." He says.

There's only the briefest silence, "You're young. I easily have years on you-"

"I have been in this company for ten years and I am on global respawn. I do not age. I am likely as old if not older than you. But I suppose there is a point to not being as old as I truly am, rather useful for having others make incorrect assumptions about me." Lazare deadpans.

The Spy stiffens, "who are you?"

Lazare smiles, slowly looking towards the Spy, "hm. Greyish blue eyes. You've got a scar peaking near the nose, I suppose with a proper fitting mask you would hide it. Eyebrows are brown but I see flecks of grey, must be in your forties.... you have a Catalan accent.... you must be Greyfox."

Lazare's assumption about the man being non-agency was wrong, since Greyfox was part of the European Agency Network. Greyfox stiffens even more, taking a pointed step back from Lazare, observing him more critically.

"I... can't be more than thirty, but obviously that's inaccurate given respawn... black hair, must be because of your eyebrows, bicolored eyes... never seen perfect heterochromia before, especially not blue and green..." Greyfox hesitates, "you could be anyone, I don’t think those eyes are naturally like that."

"Ah, can't pick out the accent." Helped that Lazare knew many languages, he did his best to have the strangest neutral European tone. The ones that Europeans have when they learn English. They all start to blend at some point.

Just as the two were going to continue their dance, they both shift around as they hear angry French yelling.

"/ _this is bullshit_!/" coming into the hallway were two blue spies, one significantly taller than the other. The tall, lanky, and young spy was the one cursing.

"/ _Falcon I told you once I have to tell you again. I can't help higher ups yanked you out of your base. You just have to work until whatever caused it resolves_./" the second Spy says.

Falcon sounds even more indignant, "/ _bullshit. I should've stayed_./"

"/ _sure sure, fancy rehab base. But from what I heard, someone needs it more than you_./" the second Spy says, "/ _so much more than anyone ever should_./"

Just as the two were starting to pass Lazare and Greyfox, Lazare extends a hand out to this mentor Spy. It catches all Spies attentions.

"/ _excuse me, do you know a Savio?_ /" Lazare asks.

"/ _Savio? I think he's a Red agent_./" the mentor Spy says.

"/ _non, he's Blue_./" Greyfox says.

"/ _Eh, last I checked he's a Red_./"

Greyfox and the mentor Spy seemed to be getting into an argument over this. Lazare takes in a deep breath, looking at Falcon. As much as the man seems to be nothing but uncooperative, but Lazare had to try.

"/ _Do you know?_ /"

"/ _fuck you_./" Falcon pauses, then amends with, "/ _what's in it for me anyhow?_ /"

"/ _we all run on favors but fine._ /" Lazare clears his throat loudly, "/ _Gentlemen, give me more to go on and I will figure it out myself._ /"

Neither the mentor nor Greyfox liked this, but they work through their arguments.

"/ _Italian, not sure where he's getting his money from but it's not from us. He's refused his pay for a while_./" the mentor says.

"/ _he's quit, mostly. Does the odd favor but won't take our pay. Smart on him, if he really wants to distance from agency. Still wondering how he gets those fancy suits_./" Greyfox says.

"/. _.. Savio's fine. Kinda treats things like a game. Usually if you contact him, he knows what you're telling him ahead of time. But I mean, it’s not like he’s a hard guy to reach out to._ /" Falcon provides.

Partially useful but it means Lazare gets to practice his Italian. He's so going to have to steal a file from Miss Pauling.

The mentor spy apologizes but states he has to take Falcon to get acquainted with a new base. A note is slipped to Lazare, where the loud cursing starts again. Greyfox has since been looking back at the wall with the photographs of Spies to hire or kill.

".... I never knew why she always refused to join the agency." Greyfox says, "she was just so good at the job, the codebreaking especially."

Lazare looked at the picture, mostly thinking to himself...

God he was an ugly woman.

"The Agency doesn't offer great starting positions." Lazare says.

"Well of course not, you must earn the ranks." Greyfox says.

"And they made you break up with your wife and left her alone with what was it, six, seven boys to raise?" Lazare deadpans.

"Oh go fuck yourself." Greyfox storms away from Lazare.

"She had a daughter, you know." Lazare calls out, Greyfox pauses in his retreat. Lazare just cannot help but look at the picture of himself.

Has he really gone that far, done what he wanted to do? Or was Mendoza right and he was just pretending that things were normal?

"I... don't blame her." Lazare says, knowing it might give Greyfox too much information, "It wasn't as though any option was satisfactory. But the Agency wanted to breed her, potentially her daughter too. You must know that much."

Greyfox puts his hands in his pockets, considering for just a brief moment.

"She would have been better away from Mendoza. You must know what kind of a monster he was." Greyfox says.

Lazare didn't confirm nor deny, only saying, "The Agency made Mendoza then discarded him when he was a liability. How is anyone surprised that he went around creating more monsters, and then the Agency wants to use them because they don't have the same liability Mendoza had? How is anyone supposed to trust that?"

Genuinely, Lazare knew he was a monster. Unfixable. It's more a surprise he's not as bad as him. Although Mendoza tried, and still tries to some extent.

"... You must be another of his. Know her too." Greyfox reasons.

"She's dead." Lazare says, "Long dead. Never coming back. But someone in the Agency won't let her go."

Lazare knew the truth was more convoluted, but he takes that the Agency were a group of dumbasses whom had too much clout in 'lineage' or 'proper gentlemanly behavior' or... Whatever it was they believed in.

It's all a bunch of lies anyhow.

“Hey Spy! Oh, multiple Spies.” Miss Paulling appears, somehow with a much larger stack. She looks at the photograph on the wall, commenting, “I do wish I met her. I heard what she does and it’s neat. I’m more of counting my blessings I met her best friend, Dima Rishmawi.”

Lazare blinks, asking, “How did you meet her?”  
  
“Oh she works for us.” Miss Pauling walks on, where Lazare is quickly following after her heels, not particularly caring much for Greyfox, “Not like regular agents, but she does great work.”  
  
It leaves him with many questions. How did the Administrator get a hold of Rishmawi? His _friend_. Whom also told him none of this. Oh he is so going to yell at her on the phone over this. Not tell him a single word-.

“So Spy, I am going to place you in a hotel room.” Miss Pauling says, “Don’t. Go wild. You’ve ah, extended your financial restriction for another year.”  
  
“What does it matter?” Lazare makes sure to sound completely dismissive, “Administration still hires me for codebreaking and get surprised when I ask for less years on my sentence.”

“Your choice. You could’ve been a multi-millionaire five years ago and done your own thing.” Miss Pauling says, “You’re the one who keeps restricting yourself.”

They finish a few things in her office, where Lazare knew enough to sort out how to swipe files. Or make a fax that looked as though it should be in a stack stay there, but he copied a phone number he needed.  
And Greyfox was right, Savio is a Blu Spy.

\--

Within the hotel room, Lazare knew better than to make such a call here, but considering there would be limited wiretapping, he felt safe enough.

Well, he still checked and made sure to use a piece of Spy tech that would likely ruin any recording (unless it was too advanced for the tech), but Lazare calls the number on the piece of paper he has.

To his fortune, the person picks up.

"/ _Ah, hello there.._./ Wait," the Italian voice suddenly shifts to English, "I was not expecting any kind of calls."

"/ _You do not have to shift out of Italian for me, Savio_./" Lazare says.

"/ _Ooh, almost a little flirtatious_./" Savio says, "/ _To whom should I thank or owe the pleasure of this conversation?_ /"

"/ _Hm. Perhaps you should hear what I have to say before you decide you're just amused_./" Lazare suggests.

"/ _Aw, you had to be the serious kind_."/ Savio laments, "/ _but, fine, I guess you are some Agent who's calling in a favor. But I cannot say I heard your voice before_./"

"/ _Not an agent. Just someone giving a helpful warning_./" Lazare crosses his legs, leaning back in his chair, "/ _You, a Sniper named Sampson, and a Medic named Walther are under the watchful eye of the Administrator. She seems to think you're not working, personally_./"

Savio was quiet for a long few minutes, eventually deciding to ask, "/ _What exactly are you getting out of warning me?_ /"

"/ _Nothing but my own amusement_./" Lazare says.

"/ _I... You warned me. Not to demand that I owe you for something that I am not even sure is true. But because you wish to be... amused?/"_ Savio did sound more than a little confused.

"/ _What can I say, I am a simple man with simple pleasures and sticking it to the Administrator is my favorite thing to do._ /" Lazare says.

"/ _Ah... Okay..._ /" Savio did not sound so certain, eventually posing, "/ _Ah, well. To whom do I owe the pleasure of thanking for this warning?_ /"

Lazare smiles, already having his fingers ready to press the switch hook, and merely says before pressing it to end the call, "/ _Oh, just a Spook. Sometimes I say 'boo'_./"

With the call ended, Lazare listens to the dial tone for a bit, taking in a breath as he dials another number.

He doesn't get who he expects, so he puts the phone back down on the hook. He should've known the information was too out of date and he will have to resort to letters. Pure will want to hear from him… Even if it did mean that Brutal would seek him out.


	3. Chapter 2- Verwalter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verwalter gets a new patient! Forcefully!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for transphobic language  
> note: this does not mean that there will be consistent Verwalter chapters, just that I am gonna accept that sometimes we need a Verwalter perspective. So I'd say... maybe 1/4? maybe 1/8? that will be the ratio to Verwalter and Spy chapters

"... _Vas_?"

The entirety of Verwalter's world has changed in a few short weeks. A Spy of his, Falcon, was yanked off his roster. Very little warning, they asked for his mental health status report out of cycle, then decided based on the information he provided that Falcon was "sufficient" enough to handle himself.

It's done nothing but make Verwalter wonder, and he's grown more concerned than suspicious. _Die Ziege_ told him not to worry himself, that he will handle everything.

Then he receives a call from a neurosurgeon, Doctor Gross.

"Well, you see, he's just a little excitable."

"Turning off local respawn in an attempt to kill you is _excitable_?" Verwalter asks, finding himself more than concerned that this Spy was being put on his roster. Whatever sort of ailments he has, Verwalter knows the odds are not in his favor.

"Ja. He's a peculiar one. Too smart for his own good." Doctor Gross sounds utterly unconcerned, "Could probably math his way past an Engineer if he wanted to."

These bits of information do not make sense, Verwalter could only take off his glasses, setting them down on the desk all so he could rub at his eyes.

"Let's start from the top." Verwalter says, "So I understand what you are trying to do. Ja?"

It's enough to catch Doctor Gross' attention, where Verwalter clears his throat and puts his glasses back on. He took impeccable notes as always.

"Now then." Verwalter says, "You had this patient, Spy 43. He had a peculiar respawn mishap and you had to fix him."

"Ja. Would you like the details on that?" Doctor Gross asks.

"Please, do not interrupt." Verwalter says sternly, "I recall you saying the specific mishap was 'head detached from body for about a month, had to reattach it, and provide physical therapy to assure all the nerve endings were reconnected'. Perhaps quite the respawn mishap, but I have heard worse tales."

"Ja, you take exceptional notes- Ach, quiet, I remember." Doctor Gross must have heard how Verwalter breathed. This man is rather annoying.

"This Spy has not only exceeded expectations, since you gave a two-year rehabilitation time, but he has decided he dislikes you severely enough to both find a way to turn off local respawn, something that even Engineers should not be able to do without immediate consequences, specifically to kill you. And your attempts at killing him has lead you both to discover you are Global Respawn recipients, as well as the fact that you feel that this Spy would be best suited in my base." Verwalter says.

"It's what you do, isn't it?" Doctor Gross asks, "You're a psychologist... at least before your license gotten revoked."

"If I recall correctly, so did _yours_." Verwalter says.

"Ja, pity." Doctor Gross says, "but. If anyone could help this Spy, it is you. Perhaps you can handle his delusions better than I ever could."

"What delusions is that?" Verwalter asks.

"He's a _woman_. I don't understand why administration lets the poor frauline dance around in women's clothing _and_ identify as a man, but it's quite obvious this Spy is sick." Doctor Gross says.

Verwalter suddenly understands why this Spy tried killing Doctor Gross and cannot say that he blames the Spy at all.

"This is what you call an _emergency_?" Verwalter asks. There were plenty of other therapists and psychologists whom could assist this Spy, and Verwalter could make recommendations.

"Well, there are other issues. Chronic insomnia, hypomanic states, massive mood peculiarities that aren't particularly explained by the 'head detached from body' incident.... Honestly I took a peak at his official file and there's so much more in there that ends up explaining him." Doctor Gross says.

Now those aspects would be enough to lead to Verwalter. His treatments are on the more experimental side. Some would say too experimental.

"I see you are intent on shipping him to me. And I presume you pulled strings to make it so?" Verwalter asks.

" _Vas_? oh! Ja, probably. You are a hard man to get a hold of." Doctor Gross says, "I had just seen that your recent Spy was released so I sorted I could give you this case. Administration agrees with the potential placement."

Which meant that Verwalter would likely received censored files of this Spy, though choice was still his and it would hinge on this Spy agreeing.

"I will see." Verwalter hangs up, not letting Doctor Gross make another comment.

In fact, his fax machine was acting up for the past hour and he heard it stop. He looks over the contents, getting a multi-page document... Of one potential patient. Spy 43. The one Doctor Gross spoke of.

Nothing else, and Verwalter listened as he read the file.

He knows when things are far too suspicious for his own good. He almost wants to reject, certainly call _Die Ziege_ because this was just too odd. Someone calls him first.

The titling Italian voice from a fellow colleague, Savio, calms him for just a moment, "Oh Walther, you will not believe the phone call I just received! Administration is investigating the three of us!"

"... _Vas meinen Sie_???"

Oh. Lovely. _Die Ziege_ will not like this one bit.


	4. Setting up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before we enter the base

" _I don't particularly find your antics amusing Spy_."

Lazare does not often make mistakes, but he should have figured the Administrator was going to keep a closer eye on him. Of course, she sent one of those men with televisions strapped to his body and it had a peculiar little camera and microphone which they could communicate, somewhat. He smokes, mostly because the Administrator is smoking.

"It is not my fault you hire subpar people." Lazare says.

" _You happen to be on the list_." The Administrator puffs particularly long on her cigarette, " _You're just useful in specific instances, and when you are mentally available. And when you are useless or are mentally out of it, well, you're no better than a protégé learning the ropes_."

"Kind as always." Lazare says.

He never lets what she says bother him. They both play this dance, but are equally aware that he is just useful enough to not die. And she's spiteful enough to not give him death when he seeks it.

" _You're lucky that Doctor Sommer decided your antics were not enough to fiddle with. And I know you would discover an answer quicker than most Spies_." The Administrator says, " _You are flying out then taking a train to a Sawmill base, tonight. You should arrive the next morning, and I do not think I have to explain what you do next_."

Sighing, Lazare starts counting out, "Integrate and observe. Discover private antics of RED Engineer and BLU Medic. Collect evidence. Report every six months. Only terminate when conditions are dire."

" _Despite all odds, somehow you manage_." It was enough of a complement from the Administrator, " _Now you will see an extension number. Memorize it. You can only use it once, make it count. It is if you need to communicate outside of the six-month mandatory period_."

75235 was written on a piece of paper. Lazare could remember this easily.

"What am I getting out of this?" Lazare asks.

" _Not dying_." the Administrator says.

"Hm. Not very tempting." Lazare himself takes a long drag.

" _Seven years off your prison contract_." The Administrator says, " _Ten if you do this in six months as predicted._ "

Normally, Lazare would try to negotiate on this aspect. He's finding himself too weary to think on it, and even then, he’s got other concerns he wants worked upon.

"In writing?" Lazare asks.

" _You and I both know that going against my word is for select things, else I will lose a lot of productive mercenaries_."

Well, she _is_ right.

That did not mean he trusted her.

Lazare ends up pushing the cigarillo he had into an ash tray, something about the taste of it was _off_. He gets a new one, lighting it with a match. He has no response, and he's not even looking at the monitor.

The Administrator gives a petulant sigh.

" _You are the most infuriating Spy I have on employ_."

"I don't like you either." Lazare says, "But you are at least... forthright, in the sense that you do whatever benefits you. I can respect that in anyone, especially in women."

" _Get to the point_." he sees that she recrosses her legs, considering him with a raised brow.

Lazare considers. He has many angles, some were flimsier than others. Maybe he just wanted her to squirm, but on some level, he did seek more comfort in this hellish company.

"I don't expect you to give things out of the goodness of your heart, but I _do_ expect some appreciation for what I do, since I am the one that handles mistakes." Lazare says, "And you dislike sending Miss Pauling on situations you are unaware of, and where the problem is localized to a maximum of three problematic mercenaries. Waste of her skills, I believe is what you would call it."

" _That isn't getting to the point and you know it_." the Administrator says.

"You gave me all the information I need by sending me here, yet last time, it was a grievous error. Entire base termination. That's Pauling's specialty." Lazare takes a drag from his cigarillo, "But I suppose we all make mistakes."

" _If you are insinuating that I sent you to the Alcazar base just to torment you, you severely misunderstand how I operate business_."

"I insinuate I done a dangerous thing that I am _not_ an expert in, gotten injured, and you're sending me into uncharted territory again while expecting me to _smile_ and take it." Lazare says.

The Administrator pointedly glares at Lazare, asking, " _You reached your point. Now to what you intend on doing with it_."

"You've tried paying off people for less. You know, cross base friendships in which you provided a great deal of weaponry." Lazare says.

" _Ah. And you think if you didn't make your perspective clear that I would have simply refused_." she says, " _You're right. I've got it half in my mind to keep refusing. But I get the hint. Let's just say I have a different pain in my side that's making very easy solutions difficult... You'll have a full Spy's weaponry stash and some other amenities. But what exists on base remains as is_."

Better than nothing, "Fine.”

" _Now if you're done sniveling, get ready to depart_."

\----

The departing wasn't the problem at all. It was getting to the base. Lazare had what few things he had shipped out from one base to the other. He'll at least be comfortable during this mission.

Even then, something about this base made him question. Sure, he's read up on the casefiles, he _knew_ what he was getting into. But in the same veil, he could still be apprehensive. This was going to be different from his other cases and he knew it.

He's alone on the train, having just enough files to make some mental notes. A few he is writing out, though he would likely burn them with one of his new spy devices that he was provided with. As much as he understands what he is looking at, he's also unsure. Well, given how _last_ time went, he's not surprised.

Nothing is as it seems. The conclusion seems to be that Doctor Sommer was behind some of these issues, but it does not help that there are case files vanishing. Too much classified information for his tastes. There are very few people ranked higher than him.  
Just as there are few people who could know everything he does. He knows Doctor Sommer will receive an abridged case on himself.

But something eats at him. Prickling his suspicion so much higher than normal.  
No, he's being paranoid.

There's a little voice whispering in his ear, " _But what if you're not being careful enough?_ "

Well. If he wasn't, he will find out.  
Not much else he can do except for approach this head on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright.  
> I'm slowly opening up restrictions because I do know there are people who read the work without accounts (cough cough Drink) and quite honestly I trust most people to be civil.  
> Except for mean anons. I am sorry for the people without accounts who would like to comment. Maybe I will loosen that restriction eventually. But I considered Quarantine and that's why I loosened up what I did.  
> Also I really hate writing The Administrator because I always think I'm doing it wrong. I'm probably like 25% wrong, but that feels too wrong.
> 
> Next chapters are going to be more on the "Editing old Taming the Peacock chapters" and I am excited.

**Author's Note:**

> March 6 update:  
> Because of a rude anon whom missed my transphobia tag and totally could've not read the work, well, guess I'm just not allowing anon comments, nor am I going to let just anyone read it, and comments get to be approved.  
> If you're not going to be productive, don't comment. Im literally going to delete them. Im a trans masc person writing about a trans guy, no one gets to tell me that I should just avoid transphobia in writing, that alone is fucking transphobic.


End file.
